' I think, that if I touched the earth,
It would crumble;
It is so sad and beautiful,
So tremulously like a dream.'



Showing posts with label Victorian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Victorian. Show all posts

14/07/2014

THEATRE REVIEW: THE SECRET GARDEN, Grosvenor Open Air Theatre

‘The flowers are growing – the roots are stirring. That is the Magic.’
A more glorious summer night could not be wished for, as the warm sun starts to descend in the sky, birds whistle all around, and chattering theatre-goers eagerly tuck into their picnic hampers, dreamily waiting for the premiere performance of The Secret Garden at the Grosvenor Park Open Air Theatre to begin. Now in its fourth year, the theatre company’s Artistic Director, Alex Clifton, couldn’t be happier with the beautiful location of what has to be the finest open air theatre outside of London, quite rightly describing the park as “our very own magic garden.” The last of the sunlight falls, as if directed to do so, onto a William Morris-style tapestry curtain adorned with a golden tree and colourful songbirds. Then, as silence falls, the curtain is parted and the magic of France Hodgson Burnett’s timeless children’s story comes to life.
DSC_5665   The tale follows Mary Lennox, an ill-tempered and haughty little girl living in India during the British Raj, who suddenly finds herself shipped off to England after the death of her cold and distant parents. Ending up in Misselthwaite Manor, the home of her brooding uncle, Archibald Crane, amid the totally alien landscape of the Yorkshire moors, the unlikely heroine is left to her own devices. She begins to explore the house, with its many locked doors, and slowly makes discoveries that will lead her to unravel the mysteries of a secret garden, and in so doing will forever change her life, and those of all the Manor’s inhabitants, for the better.

   By far one of the most standout aspects of the play is the veritable menagerie of wonderful animal puppets designed and directed by the talented Toby Olié. From the menacing dog of Mary’s uncle to the friendly robin that flits through the air and helps her to rediscover the long hidden garden – plus a whole host of other wonderful creatures in between – the rustic and charming puppet cast does not fail to delight as it is animated by actors attired in flat caps and waistcoats, appropriately christened “the Secret Gardeners”. Olié, who not only had to design puppets that could potentially withstand the very worst of the British weather, but also had to make sure that each puppet could be seen by the whole audience and was not being blocked by its puppeteer (a fair challenge in a 360̊ stage space), has succeeded in creating a truly magical and heartwarming display of puppetry.      
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The whole cast – dressed in beautiful period costume designed by Jessica Curtis – provides a strong performance, with many of its members playing a number of different roles, as well as providing musical accompaniment on fiddle, accordion, drum and tin whistle. Actress Jessica Clark effortlessly portrays young Mary’s transformation from sour, “little crab apple” to joyous and kindhearted, little girl. Scenes featuring Yorkshire maid, Martha, (played by Kathryn Delaney) as well as actor Gareth Williams’s gruff gardener, Ben Weatherstaff, are the source of plenty of warm Northern humour. One notably striking scene, with excellent music by Sarah Travis, has characters dancing and chanting a spell to call home the far-wandering Mr Craven, as puppet animals gather excitedly around, and is undoubtedly one of the highlights of the play as a whole.

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   The aesthetic of the performance focuses strongly on the notion of nature’s resurgence, and the secret garden’s rejuvenation closely reflects that of the characters tending to it. Commonplace, man-made objects are whimsically transformed into natural wonders, as ladders become the trunks of trees and delicate lace parasols transform into green foliage and blooming purple flowers. By the second half, as life in the garden stirs once again, a spreading patch of grass appears in the centre of the performance space, as if from nowhere.  By the final act, even a wardrobe has burst open to reveal a dazzling array of flowers emerging from inside.
   The piece emphasises half-explored themes of prejudice within the original story, whether it concerns class, race or gender. The words of Mrs Lennox as she scolds her daughter’s “filthy native” Ayah in India, are repeated by Mary herself when she first meets her new maidservant, Martha, in Yorkshire. These obstacles are later overcome, however, as Mary goes on to befriend Martha and her animal charmer brother, Dickon. The addition into the plot of a modern-thinking, perceptive, female doctor who treats Mr Craven’s spine curvature abroad contrasts starkly against the thoroughly Victorian male doctor back at Misselthwaite Manor, whose supposed treatment of sickly, young invalid Colin Craven is laced with a sinister ulterior motive. In response to Craven’s remarks that she is a truly “remarkable woman”, she assuredly corrects him by explaining that she is, in fact, “a remarkable doctor."
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The Secret Garden is a fabulous adaption of a much-loved classic, that stays true to the original story’s messages of kindness and healing magic within us all, and is sure to be enjoyed by children and big children alike!
   The Grosvenor Open Air Theatre runs until 24th August, and is also currently staging Macbeth and The Comedy of Errors.

For tickets and for more information, visitwww.grosvenorparkoepnairtheatre.co.uk or call 0845 2417868


17/10/2012

Richard Dadd: Of Paint and Madness

'nought as nothing it explains / And nothing from nothing nothing gains.' 

William Michael Rossetti once described the painter Richard Dadd as 'the ill-starred painter'. With his story being one of insanity, evil spirits, murder and fairies,  this epithet was certainly well-chosen. 

  
Things, however, did not begin sadly for Dadd: born in 1817, he was a rising star of the art world, admitted into the Royal Academy at only 20, and member of a circle of aspiring young, Victorian painters known as The Clique.

  
Yet, at twenty five, his life took a dramatic turn for the worst when, in the summer of 1842, he accompanied a patron, Sir Thomas Phillips on his Grand Tour of Europe and the Middle East. The pair were having a marvellous trip until their arrival in Egypt, during which time Dadd began to act peculiarly, something which Phillips put down to a case of sun-stroke. However, by the time they had returned to Italy, Dadd had become violent towards his travelling companion and was convinced he was being followed. What's more, in Rome, he had an incredible urge to assassinate the pope during a public appearance.

       On his return to England, Dadd became convinced that he was being plagued by spirits and ancient deities, most prominently that of the Egyptian god of the Underworld, Osiris, with whom he was obsessed and who constantly ordered him about. What was then labelled simply as 'insanity' we know now to most likely have been severe schizophrenia.
   On the night of August 28, 1843, Robert Dadd, the artist's father, accompanied his ailing son on a evening walk in a park in Kent. The next day, the bloody corpse of Robert was found near a pool. Richard had used a razor to clumsily slit his father's throat, stabbed him several times in the chest, then had fled immediately to Calais and onwards to Paris. He was later arrested there after attacking a fellow traveller with his razor, and was brought back to England, where he was incarcerated in London's infamous Bedlam, and spent the rest of his life in insane asylums.
Whilst the picture I have painted is one of a madman, the pictures he painted, especially during his time at Bedlam were, irregardless, extraordinary. Indeed it seems that, for Dadd, painting was a calming release, and his jailers appear to have encouraged it. He not only painted canvases, but was allowed to paint murals on the prison's walls, and even design and decorate sets for its theatre.
The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke (1855-64)
   
   His paintings during this time, though portraying supernatural and arcane scenes, were nevertheless painstakingly and cool-headedly executed. No doubt his most famous work is The Fairy Feller's Master Stroke on which he worked for roughly nine years, and about which he wrote and long and rambling descriptive poem (a line of which graces the heading above). The scene is viewed through long blades of grass and shows a tiny glade filled with all manner of fairy folk who are anxiously waiting for their King to signal a wood-feller at the centre of the piece with his axe held aloft to cleave an acorn in two for the carriage of Queen Mab.

   I was lucky enough to see this painting on display at Tate Liverpool earlier this year, and I can say without hesitation that no photograph you will find can do the original work justice. Each swirling blade of grass obscuring your view, each daisy,  tiny hand and delicate wing is astoundingly detailed and has the most incredible texturing one will ever see. One almost believes one could pick one of the tiny buds in your hand, they are so real. Every inch simply captivates the eye. Unsurprisingly, the piece has gone on to inspire writers like Angela Carter, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, and was even the basis for a song by Queen.
   Dadd's life was dogged by sadness, yet his evocative and beautiful work is a lasting testimony to the man and the artist behind the misery.
For more on Dadd's life and art, see this intriguing article from The Guardian:



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